


Finally

by holmeswatson221B



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confessions, Cuddly Sherlock, Emotional John, Emotional Sherlock, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Feels, John looking hot, Johnlock Fluff, Lestrade is in his own AU, Lots of kissing, Meddling Mycroft, Not really a cross over, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots, Sherlock flirting, Sherlock loves a cuddle, They'll figure it out, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, casefic, figuring it out, nod to Criminal Minds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 07:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7035373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holmeswatson221B/pseuds/holmeswatson221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of a case, both John and Sherlock are once again reminded of the feelings they have for each other that they have been denying. Sherlock makes his move. Will John be ready to step up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a one shot but then kinda grew. Just a lot of fluff and feels, the boys of Baker Street doing denial like only they know how.
> 
> As always, the story ideas are my own, the characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle and the BBC. 
> 
> Hopefully my research is accurate but the web can only tell me so much. Not beta'd or brit-picked.

The early morning hours found John Watson in the kitchen of 221B Baker Street making a cuppa. After a night of strange dreams, he had abandoned sleep. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was having such vivid, romantic dreams about his flatmate. He is straight, as he often pointed out to those who assumed he and Sherlock Holmes were a couple. Wasn’t he? It hit him last night when they returned from a case that resulted in both of them taking a dip in the Thames. Sherlock in pursuit of the criminal, John to rescue Sherlock as the detective struggled with the criminal and almost went under. They arrived home and started to peel the layers of sopping wet clothing off themselves. John found breathing difficult when Sherlock deposited the Belstaff coat on a chair and his purple shirt was literally painted on to him. The buttons strained on a good day but they almost gave up the fight when wet and pulled tightly across his chest. John almost lost it when Sherlock started to remove the shirt and exposed his pale chest. He had gotten extremely turned on by this. He excused himself to the shower as quickly as possible to avoid any embarrassment if Sherlock noticed his, uhem, issue. 

John dropped his head in his hands. This will ruin everything. Sherlock had made it clear that he was not interested in relationships when they had first met. John had long dismissed the fact he was in love and very much attracted to Sherlock. He knew it was more than a bit not good to be in love with his best friend. If Sherlock found out that John was having feelings for him, he would ask him to leave Baker Street and that would be the end for John. He found the life he wanted with Sherlock and he wouldn’t be able to have that anymore. What would be the point going on with life if not with Sherlock? He had to find a way to bury these feelings. He was crap at hiding things from Sherlock. John was confident that he had been able to hid his feelings before because he himself wasn’t sure what the feelings were. Once he sorted that, he did his best to talk himself out of it. But now? Surely one look at his face and Sherlock will deduce the change in his feelings toward him. 

****************************************************

John wasn’t the only resident at Baker Street finding it difficult to sleep. Sherlock was laying awake in his bed as well. He was going to get up and play his violin when he heard John come down the stairs and go to the kitchen. He heard the kettle boil and knew that John couldn’t sleep and therefore, he would be in the sitting room. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue for Sherlock, but he couldn’t handle confronting his friend like this. He felt raw, vulnerable, exposed, and he didn’t like it one bit. He has had strong feelings for John since that first night they met but he had always assumed John would tire of him as most did and be gone. He ignored the feelings he had building up, he reasoned if he didn’t allow them to be felt, then it wouldn’t hurt as much when John left. But then John did something extraordinary. He stayed. Sherlock knew that John was definitely “not gay” and would never consider these types of feelings for him. And he came to accept this as the way this would play out. Sherlock had decided that he would be happy with whatever type of relationship John would give him and if that was friendship only, than Sherlock would treasure it. But contrary to popular opinion, he was only human. Last night proved that with his desire almost too much to handle even with a strong control over his body.

When they arrived back at the flat after their dip into the Thames, they both started shedding their clothing in the sitting room. Freezing and wet was not an enjoyable feeling and they both wanted to solve this as quickly as possible. John pulled off his coat and jumper. Sherlock turned to see him in a pale blue t shirt clinging very flatteringly to his chest and stomach becoming almost translucent where it touched his skin. Those jeans that fit every curve perfectly when dry should have been illegal they way they clung to him when wet. Sherlock caught John’s eye for but a moment before John thankfully went off for a shower. Sherlock almost thought he saw a fleeting look of lust in his friend’s eye before he scurried off. Sherlock couldn’t trust his vision as his feelings were surely clouding his perceptions. He was painfully aroused by the thought of John in those clothes clinging to his body and the thought of peeling them off of him and covering his body with his hands and lips to warm him up. He had to stop thinking at this point. John would surely leave if he knew Sherlock had these feelings. And he would much rather have John here, even if not in every way he wanted him. 

**********************************************************

Around 7am Sherlock gave up hiding in his room. He needed a cup of coffee. For a man who rarely needed sleep, he was exhausted from being up most of the night thinking of John. When he walked into the kitchen, he could see John sitting in his chair. “Morning, John.” He said. When there was no response, Sherlock went to the front of the chair and found that John had fallen asleep sitting in his chair. He crouched down and took this opportunity to study his face. His blonde/grey hair was longer than he normally wore it, he had been forgetting to go to a barber. Sherlock loved the way the slightly longer wisps brushed against John’s forehead, making him look years younger; not that John was terribly old but between the grey in his hair and the worry around his eyes when he was awake made him seem much older. In his slumber, all his stresses had worn away. Sherlock smirked when he reached John’s full lips. How he wanted to wake him by just leaning forward and kissing him awake and then take him to bed properly. Suddenly, John jerked awake and pushed his arms out, hitting Sherlock who in turn stumbled back bouncing his back off his own chair before hitting the floor. 

“Sherlock?! Bloody hell, what are you doing?”

“Ex-experiment, John. Wanted to see if even in unconsciousness someone could feel themselves being watched.”

“Git. Never do that to a soldier, you’re lucky I wasn’t in my room. I’d have likely shot you. Shoot first, ask questions later.” John exclaimed as he reached a hand down to help Sherlock onto his feet. Both John and Sherlock felt electricity between their hands as they touched. When Sherlock was on his feet, neither man dropped the other’s hand nor could they find words to say; they both just stared at each other seemingly lost in the moment. The moment broken by the ping of Sherlock’s phone. Sherlock broke away first and grabbed the phone from his dressing gown pocket, desperate to look anywhere but at John. John coming to himself, shook his head, and went to the kitchen declaring the need to make coffee. 

“Nevermind the coffee, John. We’ve got a case.” Sherlock popped his head into the kitchen on his way to his bedroom to get dressed. John sighed and went upstairs to get dressed. 

******************************************

Sherlock must have been desperate for a case as John estimated this was barely a 4 on Sherlock’s case scale. Within 5 minutes of being on the scene, the case was solved. The man had been killed by his wife with his own gun after she found him cheating. Dull. Once they applied just a bit of pressure to the wife, she confessed. 

They arrived back at Baker Street later that morning and John went back to resume making the coffee that had been abandoned earlier. Sherlock strode over to his violin and started playing. John placed their coffees down and just listened to Sherlock play. The tune started out light and playful but slowly turned into a deeper melody sounding serious and almost sad. As John closed his eyes and was lost in the music, it abruptly stopped.

“That was beautiful, Sherlock. Why did you stop playing?”

“It’s not finished.” Sherlock answered.

“Unfinished? What piece was it?” John seemed confused as Sherlock rarely played unfinished classics.

“Something I’ve been composing for a while. Untitled thus far.”

“I hope you’ll play it again and finish it. It’s truly beautiful.”

Sherlock blushed slightly before giving John a genuine smile that seem to be reserved only for him. “Thank you, John. I will play it again, I’m sure.”

Sherlock sat in his chair opposite John and they sat in a companionable silence, drinking their coffee. 

Sherlock’s phone pinged.

Feeling sentimental, brother mine? –MH

Piss off, Mycroft. –SH

Touchy, touchy. Why don’t you just tell him? –MH

I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about. –SH

Please, Sherlock. You know exactly what I am speaking of. Tell Dr. Watson your feelings for him. –MH

I’m entirely sure this is none of your business. –SH

You may be pleasantly surprised. –MH

Why does this matter to you? –SH

Your happiness matters to me, brother dear. –MH

Now who is feeling sentimental, brother mine? – SH

John chuckled. “What does Mycroft want now?” Sherlock looked up at him. “How did you know it was Mycroft?” 

“The face you make when you talk to him is hardly a complicated deduction even for those of us who aren’t geniuses.”

“Nothing. Not wanting to do his own legwork again.”

“Are we taking the case?”

Sherlock looked thoughtful. “Remains to be seen.”

John gave him a look with slight confusion but didn’t push it. The lack of follow up texts from Mycroft indicated that it wasn’t a “matter of national security” so he let it go. John didn’t get involved in the relationship between the Holmes brothers unless it was getting too heated. He couldn’t imagine them coming to blows but Sherlock definitely had the advantage in that case. John smiled and chuckled at the thought of Mycroft fending Sherlock’s blows with his umbrella.

“John, are you listening to me at all?” Sherlock looked annoyed.

“Oh, sorry Sherlock. Just thinking about a, uh, joke I heard. What were you saying?”

“I was suggesting we go out to dinner. Are you interested?”

“Sure. Where too? Angelo’s?”

“I think not. I was going to take you to Clos Maggiore so dress nicely.” Sherlock turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

John felt very confused. Did Sherlock realize that Clos Maggiore was known to be one of the most romantic restaurants in London? Sherlock doesn’t usually know things like that. Maybe he just had a hankering for French food. Surely, that must be it. John cursed at himself; why hadn’t he been listening to Sherlock? ‘Bloody hell! He’s figured it out hasn’t he?’ John fretted to himself while he went up to his room to find something appropriate to wear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are getting ready for dinner. But is it a date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! I really appreciate them all!!
> 
> Here is chapter 2. I will do my best to get the next chapter to you quicker!
> 
> **I'll be editing tags and adding characters as they are mentioned or appear.

Sherlock walked to his room, pretending he couldn’t feel John’s eyes on him as he walked away. As soon as he shut the door, he released a deep breath. He had just asked John to dinner at a fancy French restaurant and John had said yes. But did John know he meant it as a date? Did he mean it as a date? Clearly John must know that it was something different than just a casual meal between flatmates since when John assumed Angelo’s, Sherlock seemed to catch him off guard by asking him to dinner at Clos Maggiore. How was he going to play this? He knew he had to tread extremely carefully as if he started to show too much interest and John didn’t reciprocate, then John would leave him forever. He couldn’t have that. Losing the army doctor was not an option. Sherlock ran his hands through his hair, why is he risking this now? Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? His thoughts floated back to this morning, when John helped him up. Their hands seemed to fit so well together. There was something different. He knew John felt it too. The both seemed to be trying to communicate something to each other, but he didn’t know what. ‘Blasted sentiment!’ was all Sherlock thought while trying to clear his mind of all the wishy washy thoughts surrounding his doctor. He needed to clear his mind and approach this in a rational, almost scientific matter. It would not do to lose John because he lacked control over his emotions.

Sherlock faced his closet, he knew he needed something that would peak John’s interest. He cursed the kidnapper who forced him into the Thames. His purple shirt that always seemed to make John’s eyes linger was likely destroyed. After flipping through the shirts, he settled on a smoky grey color with a black suit. The shirt brought out the grey flecks in his eyes he had been told. He hoped it appealed to his Dr. Watson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John was rummaging through his closet. Sherlock had told him to dress nice and he knew that he had to look smart at Clos Maggiore. Not just because the restaurant was extremely classy itself, but because if Sherlock was playing at something, he was going to make sure he wasn’t looking a slouch. He had no idea what Sherlock was playing at. Was this a date or not? Sherlock had given no indication. Had anyone else suggested dinner at the fancy French eatery, John wouldn’t have questioned it was a date. But Sherlock? He didn’t think like that, did he? John was finding himself less sure that Sherlock was incapable of romantic feelings as of late. He thought back to this morning when he helped Sherlock up and a feeling, a look lingered between them. John swore for a moment it looked as though Sherlock was maybe, possibly thinking about something more between them. John couldn’t trust himself. It was probably wishful thinking on his end. The good doctor would do what he always did when he didn’t know how to handle a situation, keep calm and let it play out. He was used to letting Sherlock take the lead and that’s what his plan was for tonight. John smiled wickedly when he had a brief flash in his mind at times he would definitely have no problem controlling the detective but that was a far way from where he stood now.

John reached into the back of the closet and his hand made contact with what he was looking for. It was a grey pinstripe suit that he hadn’t needed in years but always kept on hand just in case. He didn’t think his frumpy brown suit was going to fit the bill tonight. He went to the bathroom to take a quick shower praying the suit still fit.

Around 6:30pm, Sherlock was pacing in the sitting room. Their reservation was at 7pm and while it only took about 15 minutes to get there, depending on the route the cabbie took, he was anxious to get underway. 

“Are you almost ready, John?”

John opened his door and started down the stairs, “Keep your pants on, I’m coming.”

Sherlock looked over as John landed on the last step. His breath caught in his throat. John was wearing an extremely well fitted grey pinstripe suit with an emerald green shirt that made the green flecks of his multi-tonal eyes dance. He looked far from the cuddly, jumper wearing Doctor he normally presented himself as, he looked more like he had walked out of a men’s magazine. After a moment of Sherlock staring at him, John spread his arms out to the sides. “Does it look alright, Sherlock? It’s been a bit since I’ve worn it and the trousers are a bit tighter than they used to be. I’m not quite as fit as I was in the army.” He chuckled.

Sherlock hoped his opinion of how good those tight fitting trousers looked wasn't obvious. “You look quite nice, John. I’m not used to seeing you in a suit. The cut and color suit you.”

A small blush rose in John’s cheeks. “Ta, Sherlock. As always, you look very nice as well.”

“Thank you. Shall we?”

John gestured towards the door as if to say ‘After you’. It was a fairly warm evening, so Sherlock left his signature Belstaff and they stepped out onto the street to hail a cab. As always, one magically appeared for Sherlock. John had his suspicions that Mycroft had a fleet of cabs dedicated to following Sherlock around but he couldn’t prove it. 

After checking in at the restaurant, John could understand why Clos Maggiore was considered to be an extremely romantic restaurant. The walls were covered in ivy and small flowering vines that gave the impression they were sitting outside in a secret garden and not a building in the middle of downtown London. The lighting gave an ethereal glow to the tables that were Classic in their simplicity of crisp white tablecloths and candles. It was as if walking into a fairy tale. They were seated at a table tucked away in the corner affording them the same privacy had they booked an entire room to themselves. Knowing Sherlock, he probably called ahead to request this. Since John’s blog was so popular, it was almost impossible for them to go anywhere without being recognized. While John didn’t know what this was, he had a feeling interruptions would not be welcome, which he greatly appreciated. 

Sherlock ordered wine for them both and the waiter bowed and walked away.

“Are there no menus here, Sherlock?”

“I took the liberty of ordering in advance. My understanding is that their sampler menu is not to be missed. I ordered that with a cheese plate and they will provide pairings of wine they deem appropriate to each dish. I hope that is acceptable.” Sherlock asked without really asking. More assuming and hoping that John would tell him if it was not good.

“That sounds delightful. I probably wouldn’t have been able to figure out what to order anyway. Now I don’t have too.” John smiled.

The waiter appeared with their glasses of wine and a delicious looking plate of various cheeses to nibble on while their meals were being made. John tucked into the starter and Sherlock was staring at him intensely, his hands steepled under his chin. John indulged the scrutiny for a few minutes but it was getting awkward.

“Sherlock, what did I tell you about deducing me?”

“That I shouldn’t.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“If you have a question, just ask me. When have I ever lied to you? Like I could lie to you, I know you’d have that sorted in a minute.”

“Fine.”

“So, what do you want to know?” John looked at him curiously.

“Nothing. Later, perhaps. How are things at your job?” Sherlock emphasized the word job with hand quotations. 

“My “job” is going fine, thank you. You know why I work in the surgery. I’ve got to be able to pay my share of the rent. Before you say it, I know you find it boring, but you’d get sick of me hanging around the flat all day if we didn’t have a case on.”

“I’m sure we would find ways to entertain ourselves.” Sherlock gave a smirk that John didn’t know how to interpret. Was Sherlock Holmes actually trying to flirt with him? Just in case, John smiled back. 

Sherlock was pleased that his first attempt at a suggestive remark seemed to be well received. He hoped he could keep John’s interest without making this clearly all about the physical attraction. He was extremely attracted to the doctor but it was so much more than that. He didn’t want John to think he wanted just sex.  
The first round of the meal came and the waiter explained the dish and the wine pairing and they both began eating. Fortunately as there would be multiple meals to try, there was just a few bites of each item. As they ate, they chatted, and while the conversation remained the light banter they had, their eyes would meet and meaningful looks were shared. Both men were coming to the realization that this was indeed a date and a rather good one at that. It was until the forth plate came out that it was even close to being addressed. Sherlock’s phone pinged several times in rapid succession. He looked at the screen, frowned, typed rapidly back, and then slid his phone back into his pocket where several more pings rang through but he was ignoring them.

“Everything alright, Sherlock?” John looked concerned as now Sherlock’s phone was ringing and the detective appeared determined to ignore it.

“Fine. It’s just Lestrade.”

“I’ll get the waiter then and have the rest of the meal wrapped.” John started to stand.

“Whatever for? Are you not enjoying yourself?” Sherlock looked confused.

“I’m having a lovely time but it seems rather important for Greg to be so insistent on getting you to the crime scene.”

“Who is Greg and what does he have to do with this?”

“Greg is Lestrade, you git! Really, you don’t want to go see about the case?” It was John’s turn to look confused.

“I am far more interested in having dinner with you, John. If you would like to continue that is. If you prefer to go to the crime scene, we may. I would prefer to stay here.” Sherlock watched John’s face for his reaction. He laid it out there, what this meant in his own Sherlockian way of it.

John looked puzzled for a moment and then a bright, mischevious smile took over his face and he sat back down. “Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective, is willing to forgo a crime scene to have dinner with me? I couldn’t think of any other place I would want to be.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confession time. The boys of Baker Street get there, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay everyone! You know, occasionally real life gets in the way. But thank you so much for the kudos and comments!! I'm so happy, so many of you are enjoying the story.
> 
> I hope this chapter helps make up for it a little bit. I'm hopeful it won't be such a lag between posting.

Sherlock smiled shyly at John, a blush rising on his cheeks. “For you, John. I would only forgo a crime scene for you.” 

 

Now it was John's turn to blush. “Thank you, Sherlock. I don’t think I’m all that important but I do appreciate it.” 

 

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed. “Of course you are important. How could you think otherwise, John? You are very important to me at least. Anyone else who can’t see your worth are idiots.” 

 

John was equal parts shocked at Sherlock’s declaration and humbled that Sherlock thought that much of him, his cheeks turned nearly scarlet. “Thank you. I hope you know you are very important to me too, Sherlock.” 

 

Their eyes met. John found himself lost in Sherlock’s mysterious blue grey eyes. He could stare at them forever and never be able to clearly explain their color or the way they made him feel. Especially now as they were pouring out Sherlock’s heart. He could see the emotions that Sherlock normally kept hidden from the world. He saw love, longing, trust in those eyes. John was overwhelmed at the realization that all of those feelings were for him. 

 

Sherlock, at the same time, looked into the deep green of John’s eyes and finally clearly allowed himself to see what he had always dreamed was there. Sherlock could see the love and want in John’s eyes but he could also see the hesitation, the uncertainty. Sherlock knew he would do anything to make John know that the feelings were emphatically mutual. There was no need for doubt any longer. 

 

“John, I-“ 

 

John put his hand up to stop Sherlock. “Not here, Sherlock.” He didn’t need to say anything else, Sherlock nodded his understanding. 

 

The waiter came to the table with the final course and the two finished their meal quickly and without much conversation except what was being spoken between eyes meeting and barely contained smiles. They were both eager to return to Baker Street. While the restaurant was lovely, somethings were better discussed in actual privacy. Sherlock informed the waiter they were going to skip dessert but he was convinced by the waiter to at least take the dessert home with them, it was not to be missed. Sherlock settled the tab and with their compliments to the chef, the men took their leave. A cab once again appeared to be waiting to take them back home. 

 

The ride in the cab was also quiet but the air was buzzing with energy from the two men. They both stared out their respective windows but both were caught stealing glances as the other and smiled. 

 

Sherlock practically leapt from the cab when it finally arrived back at 221B. He tossed the driver several notes and was at the door before John could get out of the cab. John chuckled, Sherlock was acting like a kid on Christmas Day. He was hopeful about how things were going to go but one could never be sure with Sherlock, they may not actually be on the same page. He knew that Sherlock didn't really know much about relationships. What if John messed it up by trying to push for too much. 

 

When they got into the flat, Sherlock was practically vibrating with anticipation. He walked directly to his chair and sat, indicating to John he should do the same. He needed to know what John was feeling and he needed to know NOW. He knew what he saw, but he needed to hear John say it. More importantly, he needed to know what was making John feel doubtful. 

 

John removed his suit jacket and sat in his chair opposite Sherlock. He had no idea where to begin to discuss all of this. Sherlock and emotions don’t usually mix and he didn’t want to scare him off if John was feeling something more than Sherlock was. He decided once more he was going to let Sherlock take the lead on this one. John had to be careful here, everything was on the line for him and he couldn’t lose his detective. John looked over at Sherlock, “What did you want to say at the restaurant, Sherlock?” 

 

Sherlock hesitated a moment before starting to speak. “John, I have no idea what to say right now. I think this is first. So I’m just going to say it and hope that if you don’t agree, I can teach you how to delete a memory.” Sherlock bit his bottom lip and looked at John with wide eyes. “John, I’m rubbish at emotions and sentiment but I can’t keep ignoring what I am feeling. From the moment we met, I knew there was something different about you. You accepted me for who I am, even though I know I can be difficult. You are my conductor of light, when I'm lost, I know you will lead me home. John, you've made me reconsider my opinion about love being a chemical defect. So I guess I might as well just put it out there. John Watson, I love you.” 

 

John felt like he let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. Maybe Sherlock did feel the same as him. John always knew that if he ever had the chance to date Sherlock, it wouldn't be easy. Maybe he would finally get the chance. Sherlock was watching John intently. John met Sherlock's eyes and gave him that special smile that was reserved only for Sherlock. 

 

"God, Sherlock. I love you, too. I've been trying to hide and deny it for so long. I didn't think you would ever feel that way about me. You gave me back my sense of purpose. You gave me the home I didn't know I wanted or needed. It's always been you." 

 

Sherlock slid off his chair and landed softly on his knees between John's legs. John lifted his hand to Sherlock's face and ran the pad of his thumb over Sherlock's prominent cheekbone. Sherlock put his hands on John's sides. They both leaned into each other until their lips met. The kiss started slow and gentle, just a mere brushing of their mouths together. It was John who tenderly deepened the kiss; increasing the pressure and opening his mouth to run his tongue along Sherlock's lower lip, asking to deepen this kiss. Sherlock gasped, parting his lips wide enough for John to take his chance and start exploring Sherlock's mouth. John smiled against Sherlock's soft cupid's bow lips. He had imagined this moment so many times and it was perfect. Sherlock was surprised to find how much he enjoyed kissing. He hadn't understood what could be found appealing about it before, thinking it highly disgusting sharing salvia with someone else. But then John changed his mind on many things, why not kissing. Sherlock was relieved that John took over as he was sure it was evident that he had no idea what he was doing. 

 

After a bit, they broke apart, needing a breath. They panted while their foreheads pressed together. Both were smiling at each other, their eyes saying more to each other than they could ever communicate. 

 

Suddenly, a very angry DI burst through the door, making them both jump. "Goddamnit, Sherlock!! Stop avoiding my calls, I need you on this!" Lestrade came to a halt when he saw Sherlock kneeling between John's legs, he had clearly interrupted something.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John convinces Sherlock to help Greg with the case even thought Sherlock really doesn't want to go to a crime scene right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not great at coming up with cases so I tapped into my love of Criminal Minds. I don't remember if I saw this case specifically or something similar or if I just put a whole bunch of random clips of episodes together. 
> 
> A little case fic and then we will get back to the fluff. :-)

"Uhhhhh, sorry, mates. I just thought Sherlock was being difficult. I didn't realize." Lestrade stumbled through an apology as he realized just how intimately the two were sitting. 

 

Before John could say anything, Sherlock stood up and looked darkly at the inspector. "Detective Inspector, as I informed you before, I am not available for any reason this evening. Not even a 10. I don't care if Jack the Ripper has returned from the dead and is raising hell in Whitechapel as we speak. Surely, the Yard isn't so inept that they can't handle one evening without me?" 

 

"Sherlock, an entire family was murdered and staged to be having a Goddamn family dinner in a locked house!!! We need everyone we can get on this!" 

 

Sherlock opened his mouth to unleash once again on Lestrade when John finally stepped in. "Sherlock, a word?" 

 

Sherlock looked over at John and followed him silently into the kitchen. 

 

John reached up and pressed a quick chaste kiss on Sherlock's lips. "Sherlock, I know how important what we were talking about is. And I really appreciate you willing to put aside an obviously very interesting case for me. But that's not who we are, love. We need to help. The sooner you can solve it, the sooner we can return to this." 

 

A small smile started to appear on Sherlock's face. "You called me love." 

 

John chuckled softly. "You are my love, love." 

 

Sherlock kissed John's forehead. "Are you sure?" 

 

"Solve me a crime, Sherlock Holmes." 

 

Sherlock kissed John once more and then strode over to Lestrade. "You are fortunate that John wants to solve a crime this evening." He pulled on the Belstaff and his scarf and stormed out of Baker Street with John trailing behind him. The DI shook his head. He wasn't sure what alternate universe he just stepped into but if it meant getting Sherlock's help on this case, he didn't care. He followed John and Sherlock, giving them the address before heading off in his cruiser. 

 

When they pulled up to the crime scene, Sherlock had to admit, it was a fascinating case. The whole family, sitting in what he presumed would be their usual seats, an elaborate meal in front of them. As Sherlock flitted around the table, John spoke with Lestrade. "Do we know the cause of death?" 

 

"It appears they were given a drug, likely HGB, and then strangled. Whoever did this, took their time. To kill 5 adults? We can only guess it's someone who knew the family and that they trusted." 

 

"If you are done stating the obvious, Lestrade. I need to see the rest of the house. There must be evidence of a struggle somewhere. Five grown people didn't just sit there and allow themselves to be drugged." Sherlock started to walk out of the dining room, into the kitchen. 

 

John wandered into the living room. He wasn't sure what he was looking for but felt like he should be doing something. He looked at the photographs on the credenza. Something caught his eye. A picture of what was likely the whole family. He picked up the frame and walked back into the dining room. There were 6 people in the photo, but only 5 bodies. 

 

"Sherlock? You want to come see this!" John called out. 

 

"What is it, John?" Sherlock walked back into the room. 

 

"I could be mistaken but there appears to be a family member missing. There are 6 people in this photo and only 5 bodies. It looks like there is a man missing from the dinner party." 

 

Sherlock studied the photo. The man that was missing was definitely a member of the dead family, he was the spitting image of the father. Something was clearly off with the man in the picture, his body language spoke volumes that he was at odds with the family, he stood a distance from the family, almost an after thought. Interesting. 

 

"Lestrade! As John discovered, there is a child missing from this "family dinner". You are going to find that he has some mental health or addiction issues. Likely both. When you find him, I'd be interested in sitting in on the interview but I'm sure you will find he was the killer. Unlikely he had an accomplice. This is revenge. Some big trigger drove him to this. While I admit this has been an interesting case, I'm afraid my attention is needed elsewhere." Sherlock spun on his heels, popped the collar on the Belstaff and strode out of the house. John shook his head with a smirk, nodded at Greg, and jogged after his mad detective. 

 

As soon as they were in a cab, Sherlock grabbed John and kissed him deeply. He ignored the cabbie pounding on the ceiling to get them to stop. "That was absolutely brilliant, John! You solved that case in record time and before the Yard even knew what was happening." Sherlock kissed him again. 

 

"Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sure you would've solved it quicker if you had walked into the living room before I did. I found the picture but didn't know that the missing man was the killer. We solved it together." John winked at Sherlock. 

 

They were back at Baker Street before they realized it and both laughed as the cabbie seemed happy to be rid of them. As they entered the flat, John went to the kitchen to make tea for them and Sherlock sat on the couch. By the time John got back into the sitting room, Sherlock had leaned back on the couch, with his hands steepled underneath his chin. John smiled to himself. Between everything that they had talked about and the new case, he wasn't surprised that Sherlock needed to catalog everything. John placed the cup of tea he had made for Sherlock in front of him and then he sat next to him on the couch without touching him, as not to disturb him. 

 

John quietly drank his tea and replayed the evening over in his mind as well. He may not have a mind palace but it was a lot to take in. If you had asked him this morning if his day was going to end having told Sherlock he was in love with him and helping solve a pretty sick crime, he wouldn't have believed it. John started thinking, what did that make him and Sherlock now? They never really finished talking about what these new revelations meant. Sherlock could be lost in his mind palace for hours. John finished his tea and brought his cup to the kitchen along with the cold cup of tea that still sat untouched in front of Sherlock. 

 

John came back to sit on the couch and looked at Sherlock. His unruly curls framing that gorgeous face. Those cheekbones, God those cheekbones. His beautiful full cupid's bow lips. So soft and warm. John dozed off observing Sherlock's stunning features. It wasn't until his head lolled to the side, landing on the detective's shoulder, that Sherlock opened his eyes. He smiled seeing the doctor snoozing there. It wasn't the first time John had fallen asleep on Sherlock's shoulder but this was different. Sherlock very carefully shifted his arm around John's shoulders. He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around them both. Listening to John's rhythmic breathing, lulled Sherlock to sleep as well, curled up with his blogger.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John finally get back to the conversation they were having more they were so rudely interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is fluff because they needed to get through this conversation. I'm not done with the boys yet but I wanted to get them through this.
> 
> Thank you all who have read this story and taken time to comment and give kudos! It's really appreciated. :-)

Sherlock woke first the next morning as the sun started to stream through the windows in the sitting room. After blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked down and saw his army doctor curled up on his chest. They must have shifted to lay down at some point during the night as the last he remembered they were sitting up. Sherlock smiled down at the grey/blonde head on his chest. He ever so gently pulled John closer to him with the arm still wrapped around him. Sherlock cringed a little when John stirred. He hadn't meant to wake him, he was just so happy to have John with him he couldn't help himself but to try to hug him closer. 

John opened his eyes and tried to orient himself. He was in the sitting room, on the couch, curled up on Sherlock. The previous day and night came back to him and he smiled up at Sherlock. 

“Morning. I don’t remember falling asleep. Hope I haven't kept you trapped here.” 

“Good morning. You fell asleep while I was in my mind palace and I covered you with a blanket. I guess I nodded off as well. And no, not trapped. Learning that I apparently like to cuddle with you.” 

They both stretched a little and then sat up. The couch was definitely not the most comfortable place for a cuddle and John's shoulder was screaming at him. They exchanged goofy smiles. John stood up. 

"I'm going to have a quick shower and then I'll make breakfast, yeah?" 

Sherlock yawned and nodded. "You're going to make me as fat as Mycroft if I keep eating this much." 

John laughed. "I can only hope." 

After they both had quick showers and John had gotten Sherlock to eat at least a bit of breakfast, they sat back in their chairs with their tea. John lifted his eyes to meet Sherlock. "So, I believe we are back where we started last night, before we were interrupted by an angry DI and a revenge killing. Shall we continue?" 

Sherlock leaned forward, only inches away from John and smiled wickedly at him. "I believe we left off somewhere around..." He cut himself off as he pressed his lips to John's. John smiled against Sherlock's lips and his lifted his hand to bury it in those curls that had teased him for so long. They kissed for a few minutes and then John reluctantly pulled away gently. Sherlock let out of tiny whine of annoyance. He was perfectly content with just snogging John for the rest of the day. 

"Sherlock, as much as I love kissing you, good God do I love it. We do actually need to figure out where we go from here." 

"Oh, alright." 

John chuckled at Sherlock's pout. "Well, you know I've been in a relationship or two." Sherlock raised an eyebrow but said nothing. "Ok, you know what I mean. But I know nothing about your past. I know in the years we've been living together you've never been on so much as a date unless it was for a case." 

"My history is not all that exciting I'm afraid. As you know, I've never been one much for emotion or sentiment. Until you of course. You are the only one whose ever made me feel anything like this. I was in something of a relationship in Uni but thinking on it now, it was more for his benefit than my own. I just thought it was something that people at that age did and might as well have been Victor. We were friends or I thought we were. Anyway, it ended when I didn't want to be used anymore. All of this is new to me." 

"Something tells me, I want to punch this Victor prat. I promise you, we are in this together. It has to be about what we both want. And since it's pretty obvious we're terrible at picking up each other's signals, we will need to just be honest with each other, yeah?" 

"I agree. In that regard, I saw last night that you had some hesitation, some doubt in your eyes." Sherlock didn't need to ask why, John knew what he was getting at. 

"I know this is a big change from everything you are used to. I'm worried I'll do something that would be considered normal but that maybe you don't know that or are comfortable with and you won't want to be with me anymore. Or that you will get bored of me." 

Sherlock took John's hand in both of his. "You will undoubtedly do something normal and I will be confused. You need only explain it to me and I will try to understand. If I'm not comfortable with something, I will endeavor to let you know. And John, surely you know, I can never get bored with you. You are the mystery I can't solve, I can't read you like I can read other people. You are an enigma: kind and deadly, caring and intimidating. I could spend many lifetimes with you and still not be bored as there is always another layer to Dr. John Hamish Watson that I didn't anticipate." 

John blushed. "Sherlock, I love you. I just want to do this right. I want to make sure we want the same thing." 

"I've never done all this before but I love you more than anything I can even think to compare it to. I'll probably be out of my depth at times but I want to be with you. I want to be your boyfriend, partner, lover, whatever you will have me as." 

John leaned forward and passionately kissed Sherlock. Trying to communicate to him that he wanted Sherlock in every capacity he was willing to give John. Sherlock matched his passion in the kiss. They stood up without ever taking their lips off of each other and somehow managed to maneuver themselves to the couch with minimal knocking things over and Sherlock having hit his shin off the coffee table.


End file.
